Goodbye, Andy

At the service last week, I was unable to speak. I've written this post to serve as my eulogy for Andy.

When Mom died almost eight years ago, it was a severe blow to our family. It personally sent me into a such a state of denial and depression that for six months I truly believed it to be some sort of twisted practical joke and was incapable of talking about it for any length of time (to anyone) for over two years. The one major positive that came out of that ordeal was that it forced Andy, my little brother, and I to get over some of our petty sibling squabbles and be there for each other. That's not to say we never fought after that, but there was always a sense that we could count on one another whenever the going got rough or when one of us needed a quick laugh. We were brothers, and no matter what life would throw at us, we knew that we would help each other get through it.

Which is why when I received a phone call early in the morning two Sundays ago, I didn't just get the news that no big brother wants to hear; I got the absolutely worst and most horrible news possible:

Andy had died.

He had just turned 21 in January. He'd finally found a major he was interested in. He was so happy. So young. There was so much that he had yet to do with his life, so much to see. There was so much for us to do together -- weddings, crashing Hollywood parties, cross-country road trips, and undoubtedly more rides at Cedar Point.

The coroners determined he suffered a brain hemorrhage in his sleep early Saturday morning, probably caused by a seizure, a lingering side-effect of when he was attacked near Ohio State's campus over a year ago. I can't help but see that as a form of murder.

The two weeks that have passed have been grueling for me as I've soared highs, trying to interpolate what's been taken, and plunged depths, drowning as I attempted to fathom what's been lost. I've found solace in great friends, both in my own and in Andy's; knowing how well he was loved, despite his youth, has been a great comfort, but it has also been a source of sorrow.

When I think of Andy, his constant smiles and laughter spring instantly to mind. He always searched for the levity in everything, and I can't think of a moment when he wished ill on anyone. Rather the opposite, he often expressed concern or sympathy for those around him, always wanting to lighten the mood. Between spouting non sequiturs and using his goofy laugh, he almost always succeeded. I can't express how many boring afternoons spent at home Andy saved by simply being Andy, or how many holiday dinners, or car rides, or summer afternoons raking the lawn.

I never told him this, but I consider Andy to be a better person than I am. I'm shy to a fault, even among friends, withdrawn, introspective, and in constant need of barriers in some misguided attempt to protect myself. But Andy, he was exuberant and uplifting, happiest amongst others and always eager to laugh and comfort. Not to say he was faultless, as none of us are, but surely Andy's flaws as a person number far less than my own. And I'm proud he lived this way, and eternally grateful. I hope that one day I can be as open and as warm and as good a person as my brother.

Going home for his funeral was the hardest thing I've ever had to do because he wasn't there to cheer me up. I can't imagine what going back in the future will be like, after the reality of this loss has fully sunken in, but I know that not a day will go by in which I won't wish I had Andy to talk to. To laugh with. Our whole lives, we've been Aaron and Andy; now I'm alone.

Goodbye, Andy. I could really use a good laugh right now. I miss you so much, but I hope that you're with Mom and you're happy, and that someday we all will see each other again. Until then, know that your big brother loves you very much.

Goodbye.

January 12, 1988 - February 21, 2009

The Schmoscars

A couple of thoughts after seeing the nominations:

The Dark Knight absolutely deserved a Best Picture nod. A win would have been debatable, but a nod is undeniable. For universal acclaim, production quality, and ambition within its genre. A disgrace that it was snubbed. I've not seen all the nominees yet, but the hatred seems centered on The Reader.

Even more egregious: Synecdoche, New York! Where in the hell are its nominations for Best Picture and Best Original Screenplay? Quite possibly the most interesting and affecting film of the year gets Jack Shit.

Right now, I'm pulling for Slumdog Millionaire. It's the only film nominated right now that isn't meant to be Oscar-bait, and it'd be nice to see Danny Boyle recognized.

A few contemporary thoughts while procrastinating

I'm attempting my very best to avoid finishing my first film review, so I thought I'd share some thoughts I've had today.

I'm really exciting about finally owning a car. I took a gander at my future pride and joy, a 2002 Nissan Altima, yesterday afternoon. I hope to have it in hand in a week or so, though some logistical details (*ahem insurance *ahem) still need to be worked out. Here's a pic I took:

On a slightly different track, I've just read an article debating the schism between so-called "hardcore" and "casual" gamers. The article itself seemed to be a rallying cry for the hardcores to calm themselves and listen to reason instead of bemoaning the dumbing down of their beloved pastime for the masses, while theorizing that the distinction between the two is far more complicated than one might think.

I concur with the article, and am appalled at the simplicity of the hardcore argument. Truly, the example put forth in the article from their camp was that because "Gears of War 2" had its default, easiest difficult made more accessible, the game was diminished. Having not played the game (I wasn't a particularly big fan of the first in the series), I won't claim to be an authority figure, but I do remember that the first had selectable difficulty modes, and the article seemed to indicate that the second game does as well? If this is so, what is the argument? What is wrong with having a new, easier difficulty for beginners? Why should they be unable to play the game that you enjoy? To keep it more exclusive for your macho ass? If you think it's too easy, play on one of the harder difficulties! Surely, as an experienced hardcore gamer, you wouldn't even think of touching that default beginner's difficulty anyway. If that's the best example they can provide, it's a total non-argument.

Personally, I do view myself as a "casual" gamer. I play games as entertainment, as one of several forms that I enjoy. I measure my enjoyment based on the overall experience, which, more often than not, is severely hampered by a severe difficulty. I'm not a fan of trying the same puzzle, boss, or section of terrain for more than an hour of repetition; I consider that to be a form of torture.

Frankly, a lot of "hardcore" gaming -- collecting every last achievement, completing the secret fifty level dungeon, repeating the same 80-hour game seven different times just to watch an ending with a new 10-second tag -- seems like masochism. Not to mention, many of the hardcore genres seem to be stuck in a perpetual rut. After all, how many more "space marines" shooters do we need? Oh, sure, you've added cover and squad mechanics, but you're still just going around shooting hideous beasts until they explode in fountains of blood. It's getting old.

Speaking of gratuitous, pointless violence, I came across this today. The story is heartbreaking; reading about it is bad enough, but watching the video is very tough. I would read the article before attempting the video to provide the proper context. I could only stand to watch about half. If, after that, you don't have some reservations about what's going on over there, I would postulate that perhaps you're not a human being.

What a world we live in.

The Evolution of Apple, Inc.

Then:

Now:

From Brawny to chic, such are the days of our lives.

"My God, It's Full of Stars!"

I was a bit of a Johnny Come-Lately to the Nintendo Wii scene. While excited about the system before its debut, the difficulty in obtaining one for a reasonable price had left me fairly resigned to the fact that I would likely not be obtaining one. In playing Wii games via the generosity of friends, I found them fun, but without spending a significant amount of time with the console I found it hard to get hooked. Besides, I had gotten a 360 and fallen in love with its High-Def goodness; who needs "two Gamecubes duct-taped together" to have a good time, right?

Fast-forward to a more recent, better time: as a result of Providence, I had laid my hands on a Wii, as well as the game that had never let my desire to purchase one completely die out -- "Super Mario Galaxy."

You see, the biggest fly in my 360 ointment was the lack of a good platformer. Yeah, yeah, "Braid" was pretty good once you got past the attrocious, pretentious-as-fuck narrative. "Psychonauts" turned out to be a relative disappointment because all the quirky personality in the world can't quite make up for wonky controls, and beneath the personality the story wasn't really all that involving. I had -- make that have -- no interest whatsoever in poorly programmed Disney-themed games. My last, great hope was for "Banjo-Kazooie: Nuts & Bolts," but playing the demo only confirmed my gravest fears that Rare had once again screwed the pooch (or bear, to be more accurate to our unfortunate furry friend). And, while I attempted in vain to satiate this inner craving for liquid smooth platforming fun, I had heard all about how great "Super Mario Galaxy" was. I had even managed to play it a time or two, and found it enjoyable, but again, did not gain enough exposure to get me hooked.

Suffice it to say, I've now been hooked.

The game received enough accolades upon its release a year ago that I don't feel particularly obligated to add to them. Playing the game is fun and almost never repetitive as it is always presenting you with new obstacles and ways of surmounting them. The graphics are good enough that the "low" resolution doesn't matter half a hoo-hah. (Pray tell, what is a hoo-hah?) Certain objectives are frustrating (I throw a glance your way, Sweet Sweet Galaxy), but never to the point where you want to quit; on the contrary, you're always driven forward. It's hands-down vastly superior to "Sunshine," holding its own against the great "Super Mario 64."

Given the quality of the game, particularly in a genre that has been teetering on the brink via endless copycatting and corrupted with shooting mechanics in the "Ratchet & Clank" series, I have no issue understanding how it received such universal praise. However, I have been amused by looking at reviews that are critical of the game, complaining about the story and such. True, the narrative doesn't amount to all that much in "Galaxy," but what is there is arguably the finest offered in any Mario platforming game; critiquing Mario for not going all Tolkien on us is a bit silly if you're going to endlessly praise "Super Mario Bros. 3" when its story is inferior. Nintendo did at least attempt something new in this area with the Storybook chapters, so bitching about this point seems like... well, bitching. In a nasal voice. Mario games are all about gameplay, not story.

But, to give credit where it is due, that argument at least has a shred of merit to it. Believe it or not, there is another, more ludicrous argument against the game that seems to come up in the mediocre reviews, one best summed up in this quote from one such review:

"This game has too much originality, and lacks newer concepts to Mario's games."

Such brilliant insight is brought to us courtesy of radred2004 of GameFAQs.com. Notice the oxy-moronic quality: too much originality, by definition new concepts, yet it lacks new concepts. The game is too similar, but tries too many new things? Uh-huh. Those retained concepts -- the collecting of stars, the hub world, Mario, Bowser, fun -- those help to maintain series continuity. The new concepts -- the manipulation of gravity, globular worlds, massaging a bee -- those are there to always keep the game feeling fresh and interesting. Something that clearly went over your tweenish head. Considering your preferral of Sonic Adventure 2, I'm guessing you enjoy absurdly-complicated plots starring furry creatures and games that feature cheap deaths. Mario should never, ever be made more similar to the 3D Sonic games. That's like preferring the Star Wars prequels to the originals. Which, if you're a tween, is also probably the case.

I guess it just goes to show that no matter the quality, truly universal praise is never possible. There will always be at least one person with absolutely horrific taste, preferring their Manos: Hands of Fate to my Apocalypse Now.

And I shudder to think of it.

The Dark K-nig-et

I know that I was a bit late to the party, but after an excruciatingly long week of spoiler-dodging I finally did see "The Dark Knight" at the ArcLight's Cinerama dome, and I have to say... the wait was worth it.

I went with Neil, who had just returned from his India sojourn, and while I knew that both the Batsuit and the Joker's costume would be displayed in the lobby, it was a pleasant surprise to find the Tumbler and the Batpod sitting outside on the sidewalk. I still have a special place in my heart for the Burton-era Batmobile, but seeing the Tumbler in person was rapturous. It's a sexy machine, that Tumbler. (The Batpod was cool as well, but having not seen the movie yet, it didn't really mean much to me and, even after seeing the movie, it's just not the same as the car itself.) After a few minutes of gawking, we entered the dome and prepared for the film to begin.

I will admit that, for about the first hour, I was wondering why the buzz was so high. Don't get me wrong, I was enjoying the film, but it seemed to be merely a really good movie -- perhaps on par with, if not more high-minded than, "Iron Man" -- as opposed to the colossal force that I'd been hearing about for the past week.

But after the nighttime confrontation with the Joker about halfway through, the film became something else. The questions posed and the dilemmas presented, the hospital scene and the ferry game -- Nolan infused the film with the all of the appropriate gravitas and conflict and EXCITEMENT that I could have ever wanted in a Batman film. Everything about the film screamed that it was a class act, with the acting, cinematography, editing, and direction coalescing into a nearly flawless crystal. Even the score, an element that had bugged me from "Batman Begins," seemed to mesh perfectly with the whole. I can honestly say that "The Dark Knight" may be, in my opinion, the best so-called "popcorn" flick I've ever seen. The last time that I can remember feeling so satisfied leaving a movie theater was ages ago when I first saw "Independence Day," which was the perfect film for an unpretentious ten-year-old boy; if "The Dark Knight" can satisfy me so completely as an adult film student, then it must be something special indeed.

Much has been made of the fact that "The Dark Knight" has overtaken "The Godfather" as the #1 movie on the IMDb's Top 250. I don't understand what the big deal is, as anyone who bothers to use their brain effectively understands that not only is that list not a definitive quantification of a film's objective stature, but just such a quantification is impossible to achieve. Everyone has different tastes, and so filmic taste is subjective. Any knowledgeable film buff knows that "The Godfather" is a superbly-made, landmark film. For my money, so is "The Dark Knight." But "The Godfather" was made to be an epic art film, ripe for awards season while "The Dark Knight" was made as a summer tent-pole movie, primarily to entertain; both are superlative examples of their respective intentions, and they are really incomparable.

Personally, while I acknowledge the importance and craftsmanship of "The Godfather," it is not one of my favorite films -- I much prefer "Once Upon A Time in America" for a more compatible comparison. [EDIT (2/8/2009): Um, upon seeing "The Godfather" again, I must retract this statement. That film is almost flawless. Still, I stand by my belief that "Dark Knight" is a great film, among the best of the year.] "The Dark Knight," however, is truly a milestone summer film. It entertains not only through spectacle, but also through the character relationships, the themes of duality and morality, and the overall stellar production quality. It demonstrates that "tent-poles" don't have to be vapid CGI-fests, and that moviegoers have every right to demand high quality in ALL of their entertainment. I am not saying that I believe "The Dark Knight" is better than "The Godfather," but I am saying that it is a cinematic achievement worthy of respect. To dismiss the film based upon its intentions and its status on a website's arbitrary list is misguided at best and snobbery at worst.

All-in-all, despite having my expectations lifted to impossible heights, the film still managed to completely satisfy me. I can't see how Christopher Nolan will be able to top this one with the inevitable third film, but I had similar doubts following "Batman Begins."

I look forward to being surprised.

A New Look...

Howdy, y'all.

Did some quick changes to spruce up the ol' blog, make it a tad bit less gloomy and such, you know. I know this ain't the first time I said this, but I'm gonna aim to update this more often; right now, it's more forgotten-bastard-child than blog, seein' as it only gets an update every few months.

Anyways, look for a new blog entry of substance soon; hopefully the first of many.

Gosh durn. Pudding.